Harry Potter and The Affinity for Mishchief
by Informal Facticity
Summary: OneShot: Full of identity confusion, gone-awry spells, a genie, and teens with an affinity for mischief. What will the crossed over crews of Harry Potter and Ouran Host Club do on this fatefull Valentine's Day?


A Harry Potter/Ouran Host Club Cupid-festy Crossover

Co-authored by AccomodatorOmega and Ibrium (mostly Ibrium, I'm just typing . . . horribly) and posted in our united existence of an account that we have named: Informal Facticity!!!!!!!!!!!!

"You're working with a genius; I'm a genius at work" –Ibrium

_Haruhi__ and the Host Club's Happenstance Holiday Hullaballoo_

Ibrium and I profusely apologize for the late upload as this was supposed to be put up on Valentine's Day. Due to lack of foresight and re-reading the guidelines we weren't able to post until today. Please Enjoy XD.

**It is important that you read the numbered footnotes which are located at the very end to get the full affect of the humor impact that will soon blow your mind in utter amaz****ement just as an explosive tu****mor when it reaches critical mass.**

Haruhi ran into the room blushing furiously with Hikaru and Kaoru hot on her heels.

"Ah, come on, Haruhi." Hikaru whined or maybe Kaoru.

"Yeah, Haruhi," said Kaoru or maybe Hikaru. "It's not like we meant to do it on purpose."

The door of the Host Club's Music room slammed shut with a resounding crack and Haruhi whirled on the twins, her hands shaking with fury. "Yeah, well, it did happen; that's what's important."

Across the room Tamaki's tousled head popped up over the edge of the couch. His watery lavender eyes honed in on Haruhi unerringly as the self proclaimed king of the Host Club oozed over the back of the furniture to approach the quarreling trio.

"Hey, guys, is there something you need to tell papa?" The glare Haruhi leveled on him could have flayed the bark off of the trees.

"I know you have something to do with this," Haruhi half shouted pointing at him with one shaking finger while the veins on her forehead popped out with apoplectic rage. Tamaki gave her his best look of injured innocence.

"What could I do to my dear daughter that would make her so angry?" There was a pause that, while only seconds long, could have fully contained eons of star-formation and glacial movement. It was the sort of pause that happened when species were scampering off of the lists of the living onto the registers of the extinct. It was the sort of pause that, had Stalin not been the cruel, iron-fisted dictator that he was, would have followed some of his more bizarre speeches. As it was, any silence of this particular sort would have been filled the sound of the executioners axe falling on the offending party, accompanied by the whispered words: "Shhh, secret police, nobody move."(1)

It was during this pause that Haruhi marched up into Tamaki's face, grasped him firmly by the collar, and drew a deep, bracing breath. The following scream would have made ear drums 5.732001 miles (as the crow flies) away explode in a shower of blood. "_WHAT_ IS _THIS_?"

Tamaki gulped. Haruhi had just pulled, apparently out of thin air, a one-piece bathing-suit that had more frills than 1930's Easter Day parade. "You sent me _this _to wear at the swim-meet, and you made Hikaru and Kaoru switch it out with my old swim-suit in my locker, didn't you!?"

Tamaki's amethyst eyes flooded with unshed tears, sniffing theatrically while pulling a lacy handkerchief fully three yards long out of his back pocket. "I just wanted my beautiful daughter to look beautiful at her first swim debut." Haruhi's left eye twitched frenetically.

Haruhi spoke in a low voice so that she wouldn't seize the nearest Ming Dynasty vase and smash it over the president's head in a gesture similar to the one that landed her in the position of the Host Club's dog's body in the first place. "Did it ever occur to you that everyone thinks that I'm a guy? It's not like I could walk out wearing some girly swim-suit."

Poor Tamaki looked very confused. "Why not?" He asked in a lost voice. Haruhi looked nonplussed then made a circular motion in the general area of her chest. "Do you not see there being an issue?"

A couple of moments ticked by in delicate silence during which Hikaru and Kaoru began edging away towards the nearest entrance. Haruhi and the blonde boy stared at each other for a moment longer before Tamaki cleared his throat quietly and said: "I'm sorry what are we looking at?"

Haruhi's next fit of temper caused glass all over the school to implode spontaneously into cascades of crystalline shards. Across the room there was the soft crunch of eyewear lenses splintering with a thousand spider web cracks. Just as quickly as it had risen, Haruhi's ire subsided and was replaced with sudden contrition and she sprinted across the room to make her apologies to Kyoya as he attempted to polish the fractures out of his $728.46 (plus tax) designer glasses.

"I'm so sorry, Kyoya." Haruhi gushed, her hands dithering uselessly.

"That's quite alright," Kyoya said easily, pocketing his ruined frames. "It just means your debt to the Host Club is now 11,845 dollars."

Haruhi's jaw hit the floor and she gazed uncomprehendingly into the steely eyes of the Host Club's financial manager (a.k.a. Big Mama), who lifted one hand and pushed his nonexistent glasses up the bridge of his nose but succeeded only in stabbing himself in his left eye with one impeccably manicured nail. The rest of the Host Club, including Hikaru and Kaoru, who had found that the door to be their escape route was actually locked and so were standing quietly in a corner, watched in bafflement as Kyoya rubbed furiously at his watering eye while swearing fluently in six dozen languages, ending in: "shit, bugger, fuck!!!"

There was a pause; well, not really, it was more of a prolonged period of quiet while the remaining members of the Host Club, excluding Kyoya who was the source of the blue streak and Mori, who was busy clamping his hands over Huni's innocent ears, attempted to figure out exactly what their beloved Big Mama was saying so eloquently in so many tongues. Hikaru and Kaoru's eyebrows slowly slid up until they were lost in their well groomed yet deliciously rumpled red-gold hair as the raven-haired manager's rant staggered a few metaphorical steps further before collapsing in a heap of tongue-tied twisterly-toodles that thwarted the thread that tied the tarnation tangle together (2).

Kyoya seemed slightly phased by his own outburst. It was into this tense atmosphere that Tamaki hurled his words of peace into a cruel and unforgiving world like a newborn baby from the womb right before it gets smacked on the ass (3). "I'm sorry, Haruhi, there's nothing wrong with your breasts." Haruhi's face burned with embarrassment, so much so that its heat rivaled that of ten thousand young suns, certainly hot enough to fry an egg. Hikaru snickered, or maybe it was Kaoru. It was hard to tell because their likeness was uncanny; they had perfected their imitation of one another for so long that, in addition their physical appearance, every movement was a symphony of carefully orchestrated movements meant specifically to confuse those that did not know them as well as their fellow Host Clubbers. Kaoru smacked Hikaru, or maybe it was the other way around. However, their antics did not stop both twins from making the same fatal mistake: "Kyoya certainly didn't think there was anything wrong with them at the beach house."

Kyoya's sudden choke was audible to the whole room. Haruhi's blush, if possible, deepened. "How do you know about that?" Haruhi stammered. Hikaru, or perhaps Kaoru, looked intrigued. "I guess we were right. We weren't actually sure anything happened but I guess we know now."

Kyoya swore again venomously and Haruhi ripped one of her low-heeled shoes off to launch aggressively at Kaoru's, or perhaps Hikaru's, teasing grin, which nicely offset their gleamingly white teeth. The twins dove out of the path of the flying slipper and the footgear's unfortunate trajectory resulted in its painful collision with the right side of Tamaki's face.

"How dare you strike your adored father's face?" The blonde-haired pretty-boy shrieked, clutching the same ridiculously long handkerchief that he had pulled out earlier. The laughing twins scrambled in opposite directions as a flustered Haruhi chased between them, catching neither, but brandishing her remaining loafer threateningly. Kyoya, too, looked pissed, but instead of resorting to physical violence, he speed-dialed his chauffer to bring him the necessary legal documents so that he could sue the twins to within an inch of their pathetic lives.

Tamaki's wild flailing attracted Huni's attention. Mori had long since removed his protective hands from Huni's ears, so that the youthful appearing senior was fully capable of audibly observing all that was happening. Hugging his precious bunny close to his chest, Huni turned limped eyes toward his stern protector. "Hey, Mori. What did Haruhi and Kyoya do?" Huni's innocent-seeming question left the stoic Mori struggling to find the words to express the full implications of the rumors regarding their financial Big Mama and their charming commoner Haruhi without becoming too explicit for his young ward, a thought process that was most bizarre as they were of the same age. Mori had finally decided on what exactly he was going to tell his shorter counterpart when Kyoya shot him a glare so cold that it could have frozen a lake in mid-summer.

Some yards away, Haruhi had managed to corner Hikaru, or perhaps Kaoru, with such aggression that he felt it necessary to shove her backwards to clear some breathing room. She fell back, slapping a vase off of its ornamental stand. Swirling purple mist rose from the shattered remnants of the vase and the Host Club just barely glimpsed a narrow, surly face before their world dissolved into sparkling silver stars.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Potter Land, where faeries and Blast-Ended Skanks frolicked peacefully through the Forbidden Forest, the main star, Potter, who doesn't actually know that he's the main character, or that he is—, anywho, Potter was absentmindedly sitting in his first Defense Against the Dark Arts of his sixth year with the new teacher Mr. Chomskerelli, born 1928, trying to explain to them what a relatively permanent change in behavior due to experience was, when Potter stopped listening and instead played with his stick glue (4).

Now fo' serious, Harry was paying very close attention to the twenty-seven different ways of how to immobilize a left-handed vampire (meaning that it attacks with its left-tooth toward the left Achilles tendon). After Mr. Chomskerelli finished, the class promptly filed away for double-Charms with the Slytherins. Upon entering the cluttered classroom, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were pleasantly surprised to see two familiar faces in the place of the old, wrinkled, gnomish potato-head of Professor Flitwick. The tastefully tressed twins towered over the class from their precarious position upon Flitwick's teetering tower of tomes (5).

"Puking Pastilles for everyone!" exclaimed Fred, or perchance it was George. "But only after we learn some everyday curses for the average teenager with an affinity for mischief."

"Must I endure the extremely painful task of learning from two weasels clad in tight…smooth…sexy…gleaming…black dragon hide?" the young Malfoy bitched at his wall-like cronies who made no acknowledgement of having heard anything. Malfoy's oddly detailed question of what the twins were wearing earned him an especially strange look from the "Golden Trio," which screamed "_cree-py_" Noticing the glance, Malfoy quickly proceeded to his seat: the farthest in the back.

"Speaking of tight clothing, today we will begin with—," George began, or perhaps Fred, only to be interrupted by Hermione.

"But…but Professors? When will Professor Flitwick be back? And for that matter, why is he even gone?" Hermione queried rather annoyingly.

"Well, there was a…_mishap_…over the summer. Mr. Filch went on a little vacation and forgot to take Ms. Norris with him for some reason, apparently she was kinda angsty about something or other, anywho, Mr. Flitwick got in the way and _he hasn't been the same since_. Enough said," the twins answered in unison. They continued on their previous topic, "Well, back to that charm. It will be 'How to charm tight clothing on an unsuspecting victim,' which also becomes _very_ useful if you ever feeling like going to a rave club. _Yeah_." At this point, Seamus gave a very excited cry of joy while the rest of the class sat in varying states of utter discomfort with the best look being an extremely mortified expression plastered onto Malfoy's perfectly sculpted face.

"The spell is this: _Fischcritchcrotchitusbuketustightapparel_(6) This is accompanied by a shimmy of the hips and a flip-floppinling wig-wag of the wand. First, let us _demonstrate_." Fred, or mayhap George, sauntered nonchalantly to the classroom door. Upon opening the door, the twin in question encountered a student perfect for the occasion. Said student, sashaying sexily, swaying sassily, was abruptly interrupted in the aforementioned action as the unestablished twin elegantly ejaculated "_accio_random Ravenclaw!" The Ravenclaw shrieked and was sucked into the classroom, zooming to the front of the class while the door slammed shut with forbidding finality.

"Oohhh, Jesus Christ" he lisped with suppressed glee at the sight of the sexy ex-Gryffindor duo. "What's goin' on guys?"

"Well, since you asked," George said slyly, or it may have been Fred. "_Fischcritchcrotchitusbuketustightapparrel_!_"_

Suddenly, following the shimmying of Fred's, and probably not George's (though, it could have been if you _really_ think about it), hips and a wig-waggle of the wand (7) the unsuspecting participant was momentarily frozen as the spell took effect. The previously lisping boy shrieked as his pants constricted upon his skin and bone legs, which whined against the semi-familiar pressure. The class joined in a collective ooh-aahing. The once uniformed

Ravenclaw was now clad in clothing that would make a hard-core, bad-ass, Japanese emo punk-rocker weep with envy. The pants were now made of exquisitely joined dragon scales, each one no larger than the smallest nail and buffed to a bedazzling status of shininess. The students in the foremost rows were momentarily and temporarily and for a limited time blinded by the evanescent glimmering glory of wellness.

"Fabulous!" The now decked out and leathered Ravenclaw cried in a slight shrill as certain unmentionables were being vacuum sealed under the magically fitted pants.

"Che-k, I didn't know the spell would make you _gay_." Draco drawled in an elitist manner.

"You shouldn't be talking seeing as your pants are made of the same fabric." Harry interjected snidely as the Ravenclaw exclaimed "Fabulous" once more as he pranced around the room causing light to reflect in every direction, which caused the closest seated students to bleed from the eyes, which went unnoticed by the twin professors who were bawling with laughter.

"Yes, well, they aren't tight." Draco bit back unimaginatively.

"Not yet." Harry responded vaguely causing Draco to assume a most horrified expression of anxiety accompanied by a deep blush.

"Oh, look at the time. Class is over." George pouted, or was it Fred (8).

"What!? How is it that whenever something really interesting happens class always ends? Are we ever actually going to learn something in class?" Hermione shouted in desperation at the fact the all of her classes seemed to be over in a matter of only a few pointless minutes.

"Alright, alright. We were only joking." Fred admitted defensively as George gave her a "thanks for ruining the fun" scowl, unless it was George who was being defensive and Fred who was now donning the scowl.

Before Hermione could fume in indignation, a scrawny Gryffindor, whose name is unknown and who will probably never appear in this story or any other ever again, cautiously raised her hand to be quickly called upon by the Professors extraordinaire who did not want to feel the wrath of the learning-obsessed bookworm.

"Yes, uh—Gryffindor girl. What is your question?" George inquired with a soothing and calm tone which definitely made it George. Well, definitely maybe; after all, in all facticity (9) it may very well have been Fred.

"Um—shouldn't we send the students to the infirmary?" The small voice questioned sheepishly, earning her twin confused looks from her professors who clearly didn't understand her meaning. "Well, some of the students are bleeding from their eyes. I think your spell –er— the pants have, uh— " She stopped in her attempt to explain as Fred and George became aware of said students and resumed their boisterous laughter that had previously been interrupted by their own lame attempt at joking the class into leaving.

"That is _too_ funny!" Fred breathed with hilarity between his gasping laughs, unless of course, it was George who was talking between laughs; to which George replied to Fred, unless it was Fred replying to George's statement, "Not even _we_ could have planned something this hilariously random." After the thoroughly laughed-out professors with their extremely tousled hair had calmed down they offered a solution, one which would definitely cause extreme teenage drama. "Harry, Draco and Gryffindor-who-shall-remain-nameless (10), take these students that have been wounded in the name of pranks to the infirmary." Both twins assumed a tragic-hero pose in mock honor of their wounded compatriots.

The nameless Gryffindor gathered up the bleeding students and proceeded to the door while Malfoy showed the signs of a coming temper tantrum: tightening of the fists, twitching of the right, sometimes left but not usually, eye, flushed color along the cheekbones, a few random hairs stick out at random and gravity-defying angles and the twitching of the left, but sometimes right but not usually, leg that will escalate into a full-on stomping once the tantrum begins.

All the while Harry was snickering to himself and asking Hermione how to conjure some high-powered sunglasses. He quickly conjured said object and was bubbling with mirth over his brilliant plan to humiliate Malfoy (11) and nearly split his face with his hardly-contained smile as he turned to Malfoy.

"I can't believe—" Draco's haughty voice, ringing across the room with the incredible force of a two-ton barrel of flobberworms, was interrupted by Harry's feather-like lilting voice.

"Oh, Malfoy." He sang with glee. "Afraid to go on a little trip with some Gryffindors when you are wearing such _pants_?"

"What in Slytherin's name _are_ you talk—" Draco hardly began his inquiry when Harry spoke the words of mischief.

"_Fischcritchcrotchitusbukestromtightapparremael_!_"_ Harry yelled the spell horribly incorrect and with a rapid Shakira-shake of the butt instead of the appropriate shimmy of the hips that George, or Fred, had demonstrated. Malfoy dawned one of those slow motion "Oh, No!" faces as he fell back in super-slow matrix-motion, managing to avoid the gone-awry spell which hit an unobtrusive vase. A swirling vortex of purple smoke emerged from the mystery vase leaving the class in utter and completely irrevocable silence.

"Aaaah!"

The shout was oddly muffled by the dense, swirling lavender mists, but it still conveyed feelings of deep shock. The Hogwarts class shifted uneasily in their seats as an argument broke out at the front of the class. The problem was not that the argument was particularly heated, which it wasn't, or that they were disturbed by the sudden onslaught of Technicolor ground fog, which they were, but that the four voices involved in the debate were incredibly similar. Indeed, it was entirely possible that it wasn't actually four people, but rather a single ventriloquist and his assorted puppets or possible even a schizophrenic with split personalities having an audible argument with all of their other selves.

"Get off of me!" shouted one voice, accompanied by the sound of an open palm meeting cheek.

"What the hell?" came the same voice from what was presumably a different person. "I never touched you!"

"Yeah, well, you're certainly touching me!" said two more of the voice together. The class sat in stupefied silence, blinded by the palls of lurid smoke. Sounds of a scuffle filtered back to them and when the quiet swearing turned into loud screeches, Hermione sprang into action.

"_Desaparacio_ fog!" she called, flicking her wand in a business-like manner. Instantly, the purple wisps began to diminish, first in color and then in substance, until the room was completely clear. It was then, at the moment when everything became clear, that she began to wish she hadn't. Looking at the front of the room, it became obvious as to why there had been four copies of one voice.

Sprawled out in a messy heap on the fallen piles of Charms texts lay four identical and incredibly handsome young men. Two of them were dressed in familiar clothing: the tight black leather pants and fitted jackets of the Weasley twins clung to two of the four, specifically the ones who were now squashed under two carbon-copies of themselves in different clothes. Several girls in the class squealed gleefully at the sight of four gorgeous men tangled together and promptly fainted from blood loss as jets of crimson fluid gushed from each nostril. Hermione, on the other hand, was unaffected. Well, mostly. Okay, a lot, but she had much better self control, which is why she was able to snap several photos with her miniature camera for later sale on the Hogwarts black market. The class was so caught up in the delightful puzzle of the presence of the four twins that it was some moments before they realized that their numbers had been bolstered by more than just the two red-gold gods.

"Oh, he's so cute!" moaned the random Gryffindor girl as she stared at the short, slender blonde boy who stood, eyes wide, in the protecting arms of a tall raven-haired guardian. A plush bunny dangled half-forgotten from one hand.

"Just wait until my father hears about this!" Malfoy shouted, torn between curiosity about the new faces and rage at being attacked by Harry. "Who _are_ these people anyway?" No sooner had the words left his mouth than he found himself grasped firmly by the chin and pulled against the chiseled chest of one of the newcomers, a tall, statuesque blonde with sparkling lavender eyes.

"My name is Suoh Tamaki. I am a king of a distant land, trapped in a terrible enchantment. Will you, fair prince, break my spell with a kiss—ah!" Malfoy had elbowed the glorious male in the gut in a last-ditch attempt to create space in the narrowing gap between their bodies and the radiant, self-declared king let out a sob and whirled away to hide his face in a corner where he consoled himself by emitting waves of sadness. Draco's blush was fluorescent red as he sputtered in indignation. "A kiss…ah…ew…what…"

"Allow me to explain the situation we find ourselves in," came a calm, collected, cultured voice from behind the pile of eerily-similar men. Another handsome figure stepped forward into the class's sight, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did so.

"Hey, I thought Haruhi broke his glasses," exclaimed one of the unfamiliarly clothed twins.

"Kyoya always has a spare. Or two, or three since Haruhi joined the club," replied the other twin, the one that matched the other odd twin.

A withering glance from the dark-haired, bespectacled teen silenced them and the rest of the class, who had the strange sensation that this was the male version of McGonagall if only she were forty-some-odd years younger. "We," he pronounced clearly, "have arrived in what I am assuming is another country with extremely different traditions from our own." At this, he paused to stare around the room, his upper lip curling slightly at the dusty tapestries and general clutter and uncleanliness. "We, that is, the seven of us, would like to return to our homes as quickly as possible. We will require the use of your phone and someone will arrive soon to retrieve us."

"We don't have a phone," Hermione interjected, her eyes positively aglow with the desire to educate. "This is Hogwarts, non-magical devices won't work inside the grounds. And there are wards against Apparation so you can't just leave on a whim. And what do you mean seven?"

Sure enough, nobody seemed to be able to spot the alleged seventh new arrival until Harry and

Ron let out loud groans. The seventh member was apologizing profusely to them as they rubbed their heads and the rest of the class was faintly disappointed to see that the other person was fairly short, not quite so handsome as the other six, faintly girly, and decidedly ragged. The person noticed them shortly after the staring began and their response was adorable.

"Hello!" they half-yelled, bowing swiftly and stiffly. "My name is Haruhi!" Their voice was girly, too.

By now, the four twins had extracted themselves from their book morass and separated themselves into two sets, each of which was dressed differently. At a look from the glasses-wearing man identified as Kyoya, the other six members of the displaced group joined him at the front of the room. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Ohtori Kyoya, the financial manager of Ouran High's Host Club. You have already met our dog's-body and newest member, Haruhi, and our leader and poster-boy, Tamaki."

"I'm Huni!" the littlest (12) member, the angelic blonde chirped. "And this is Mori!" he added, pointing irreverently at the stoic man just behind him. The class's attention sharpened; it was now time for the Fred and George look-alikes to identify themselves. They did, too.

"We're Hikaru and Kaoru," they sniffed loftily, an attitude belied by their teasing grins. A soft murmur ran through the ranks of students until Fred, or perhaps George, sprung to his feet to regain control of the class.

"Listen up, class!" Fred (remember the possibility that it could be George) yelled. "Given the new situation, class is dismissed until whenever you are supposed to meet for Charms next, at which time we will likely have something planned for you. In the meantime, get lost so my brother and I can work out what we are going to do with our visitors." The fan-girls who had revived since their fainting spell passed out again at the unintended innuendo, leaving pools of blood to seep across the floor in ever-widening circles. Grumbling, the class, dragging their fallen classmates, filed slowly out the door until only Fred, George, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were left standing with the new arrivals in the abandoned Charms room.

"So…" Harry said pointlessly, feeling awkward in the silence.

"How did you get here? I've read all about transportation charms, but I've never heard of one that can get through Hogwarts' defenses. You must have done something incredible!" Hermione demanded eagerly.

"Not really," Kaoru replied despondently, or maybe it was Hikaru…it was hard to tell. "We just got in a fight and knocked over a vase—again—and all of a sudden we were her in a whole bunch of freaky purple fog."

"There was a face, too!" Huni bubbled.

"Yes," Haruhi confirmed. "I'm a girl, by the way." She added at Hermione's strange look.

"How could you tell everyone our secret so casually?" Tamaki despaired, falling into theatrical weeping.

"It's not as if they even knew about the Host Club," the female Haruhi explained as she patted Tamaki on the head like a dog.

"The fact of the matter is that we must return home by whatever means possible," Kyoya said simply. Hermione clapped her hands.

"A genie. A genie brought you here. All we need to do is find the genie to get you home. It's the perfect answer!"

"Great," Ron snapped. "Hogwarts is huge. Where do you propose we start looking?"

"Anywhere," George snickered, unless it was Fred, rubbing his hands together in a way that boded ill for somebody. "But first, let's get you out of those clothes and into robes…"

Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged fleeting looks of contemplation before they shook their heads and followed the other set of twins to a previously unseen broom closet in the back of the chaotic Charm's room, leaving five Host members with the Golden Trio and a side of Draco.

Draco stared at his taller double with lavender eyes, Tamaki, oddly, afraid that he would again attack him and ask him to eat fried rice with him (14). Harry examined his female copy that, after her rough entrance, had untidy hair just like his. Hermione and Ron, who didn't have the honor of having a look-alike, pouted; well Ron did, but Hermione just drank up the image of the well-kept Kyoya who was studiously brushing the dust off of his miraculously spotless uniform (which made the dusting-off rather unnecessary).

Fred popped his head out of the broom closet with a frown, unless it was George, but in all facticity may have in fact been either Hikaru or Kaoru who may already be dressed in robes identical to the wizarding twin's. Anywho, the undesignated head called out to the silent party, "Hey, Host Club, you all need to change. We wouldn't want you standing out in the crowd any more than you already do." The unassigned head once again disappeared behind the closet door.

The Host Club members backed away much like how one would back away from their hated opposing duelist in a quick-draw duel; a ball of tumbleweed even rolled across their path as they made their way to the overly-stated and clearly mentioned broom closet (15) to get fitted in some top-notch disguising robes.

After much fuss and some bumping noises that emitted from the cramped room paired with a squeal of "No! Don't defile my beautiful daughter!" followed by a loud smacking noise, everyone spilled out of the door that had been flung open by a blushing Haruhi.

As the crowd stumbled to their feet and the dust settled, a most confusing sight met Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco's eyes: four undeniably gorgeous red-orange ethereal beauties stood in a line, all holding the hips of the carbon-copy, or copies, next to them. For some odd reason Fred and George had also placed on their old Gryffindor colored robes on. In the midst of the confused looks splayed upon the current Hogwarts students, one of the Gods of sexy spoke.

"Well, Kaoru and Hikaru _had_ to be in Gryffindor with us and we figured all of them wanted to be together, so they'll all be in Gryffindor!" More than likely George exclaimed this, but it could just as likely have been Fred as he was a wizard too. But then again the four of them could be playing an elaborate trick of masterful identity-confusing and Fred and George could have told one of the twins to say it . . . so many choices. Even as the names of the Host Club twins were said the other three looked at the speaker as if they, too, weren't sure of who was speaking.

Totally unrelated to the events at hand, Huni spoke in his sweet and delightful voice and complained to his stoic-faced counterpart, "Mori-kun I'm hungry and Usa-chan (16) wants some tea!"

Hermione ignored to small boy's cry, though it was tough, he's just so adorable, and laid out a quick and temporary solution. "George, Fred, I don't think it would be best if they were to stroll around the school; they would probably get lost and starve to death—" At this prediction Tamaki donned an overly-exaggerated look of horror and ran to Hermione, kneeling at her feet.

"No! Please protect us, maiden of this mysterious land that waves a wand in the air like magic!" Tamaki pleaded most dramatically.

This statement raised Hermione's eyebrow and for a moment she was lost in the implications of the statement that only she would notice as her fellow wizards remained oblivious. "There is a simple solution." she continued unfazed "We only need to stow—keep them in the Room of Requirement until we find the genie to get them home." Hermione ignored Tamaki as he praised her heroine status before he finally stood theatrically and skipped back to Haruhi and embraced her rather mother-like. "Hear that my precious daughter? We shall be safe in this unknown world until we can get home." Haruhi grimaced and mumbled 'yeah, great, now get off of me.'

"Isn't it supposed to be me who comes up with the witty solutions that are in retrospect stupid and rash?" Harry questioned having the vague feeling that he was comparable to the main character in any hero videogame or at the least some sort of derivative of a main character or maybe a good jerk (17) of a villain.

"That is absurd." Hermione admonished. "And besides my idea wasn't stupid _or_ rash." She promptly turned on her heels and moved towards the entrance of the Charm's room and, as she opened the door, she turned around. "Well. Aren't you all coming?"

The large group of twelve shuffled with varying degrees of elegance as they all proceeded to follow her to the Room of Requirement to hide or be hid. Draco was amusingly attempting to hide in Harry's shadow from Tamaki who still made him extremely nervous by the way he walked or, rather, glided; he was exactly like him except he had lavender eyes, was waaaaaaay happy and a vision of roses and sparkles seemed to spontaneously surround and follow him in every movement. Harry found this to be quite funny.

"Oh, how nice. Have you already forgiven me for almost cursing you with the gayest pants in existence?" Harry mocked.

"Shutup." Draco snapped weakly, still eyeing the aforementioned pretty boy with suspicion. He immediately straightened his back and pretended like he hadn't been lurking in Harry's shadow for protection. Harry rolled his eyes.

"So what is this Room of Requirement that you speak of?" Kyoya asked in a business-like voice.

Hermione was caught off guard by his sudden question. "Well, it's a part of the school that you walk in front of three times thinking of the kind of room you really need and then doors appear and when you open them the room you require will have appeared."

Kyoya's face became buried in thought. "Just like magic." He inquired rhetorically to himself in the oddest of up-speaks.

All the while, the quadruplets were a mass of identical snickers and giggles, no doubt _planning_ something, just far enough behind the rest of the crowd that they went unnoticed.

The group slowly made its way to the destination, none of them doing anything outright interesting and therefore the next fifteen minutes shall be only be briefly described, peppered with vague, unnecessary and soon forgotten details that will not have an impact on the development of a plot; that is, if one eventually came to existence out of this purple plush mist of a not-quite-a-Valentine's-story-yet. Huni hummed "Sakura Kiss" (18) and swung his bunny atop the shoulders of Mori. Tamaki floated around Haruhi in joyful content. Hermione periodically would look at a thought-absorbed Kyoya only to blush and look away. This, for some reason or other, hint-hint, bothered Ron to no end, so he scowled at the back of Kyoya's perfectly groomed hair. Harry kept giggling whenever Draco would nervously glance toward the other blonde prince and the quadruplets kept snickering mischievously.

"Finally." Ron sighed impatiently. "Hurry up and just shove 'em in the room."

Hermione glowered at Ron for his rudeness. "Kyoya, just do what I told you earlier." Kyoya walked in front of the wall three times thinking hard about his school and miraculously as he made the last pass a magnificent pair of doors appeared. They were exact replicas of the doors that lead to the music room back at Ouran High. Kyoya and the rest of the Host Club, well, except Mori whose expression never changed, looked on in amazement at the wondrous sight before them.

Haruhi stepped forward and pushed open the double doors to reveal a momentarily blinding light as rose petals began to fly out of the opening and classical music emanated from inside the room. Inside was exactly as the music room was organized in Ouran High. There were tables for tea set up and little sitting areas comprised of antique couches or single seats covered in light yellow fabric. For a split second they felt as if they had made it home when their otherworldly experience was shattered by Ron's crude interjection.

"Yeah, yeah. Peachy goodness. Let's go Harry."

Unexpectedly though, there was one slight difference in the appearance of the room; there were hearts and red streamers and pink balloons covering almost every corner and crevice of the room.

Suddenly one of the quadruplets yelled out with excitement, apparently they were unable to hold in such an amazing idea any in longer. "This is going to be the best Valentine's Day in all of history!!!(19)"

In the long, awkward silence that followed this outburst, several things happened in close chronological order. First, Kyoya, who was always quickest on the uptake, began calculating the expense that was sure to come in the moments ahead as the twins-made-quadruplets set about wreaking love-themed havoc as only they knew how. Second, Hermione noticed that Kyoya had started thinking before she had and began to process everything she knew twice as quickly as usual so that she could prove to Kyoya that she was not his mental inferior. Third, Draco finally gave up on being dignified and leapt behind Harry with a cry of, "My god! What _are _these people!" to which Tamaki responded with a delighted shout of, "I'm glad you asked! We are the Ouran High School Host Club, here to serve your every whim! What kind do you prefer? Wild man, boy Lolita, or perhaps me?" The fourth and fifth events took place almost simultaneously so not even I, your devoted author, could tell you with absolute certainty which happened first. Huni drug Mori over to a table crammed with cookies and delicate pastries and, across the room from them, a short, fat cupid burst into existence holding a ridiculously curved bow covered in a truly obscene amount of gilding. The mini-god of love twanged the bowstring meaningfully as he stared at an oblivious Kyoya. Hermione noticed this and it was her attention that brought about the sixth critical event: Kyoya's unexplained tumble across the room to fall heavily on the none-too-pleased winged messenger. One of the many absurdly large arrows in his quiver grazed the Big Momma of the Host Club, breaking the skin. A fine trail of blood ran down his cheek to drip off of his pointed chin.

Hermione grinned. Sometimes impulsive action was the best after all. She gave in to a round of self-congratulation that would have been disgusting had it been done by another person, but it was only mildly repulsive coming from her. The gleeful moment was short-lived however, because at that moment Kyoya sat up and opened his piercing eyes, which fixed firmly on one of the four twins.

"I…I…" everyone stopped to stare at Kyoya, whose normally-eloquent voice seemed to stick in his nervous throat. "I…I love…you…"

"NOOOOO!!!!!" Hermione screeched, stomping across the room to seize the cupid by the neck. "You! You fix this right now, y'hear?" The cupid scowled at her and thrust a thick clipboard in her face.

"Sign here," he said in bored tones. "It's the confirmation of the delivery of one arrow of love and acceptance of all consequences that result, exempting the gods of Olympus from legal responsibility and waiving your rights to sue."

"I will most certainly not sign that bloody rubbish!" she yelled, shaking the little body furiously. Just as she reached for her wand to pull a good _reducto_ curse on the little chubby man, Harry pulled the clipboard away and signed it in his terrible script.

"Thanks," the cupid said hurriedly, stuffing the clipboard down the front of his grubby tunic and vanishing in a soft pop, leaving behind only a small sprinkling of heart-shaped confetti.

"How could you do that, Harry?" Hermione sobbed as she alternated between pulling the teen's messy black hair and wetting the front of his Gryffindor pull-over sweater with her tears. "Now Kyoya's in love with that…that…multiple freak show!"

"I RESENT THAT!!!" the four members of the "freak show" responded, their sun-colored hair practically standing on end in a show of rage that was horribly lovely.

"Now, now, Hermione, it's not all that bad," Ron consoled her while secretly thanking all of his lucky stars that Kyoya was safely out of the way of his crush.

"You don't understand," the bookworm wept in anguish. "He was so perfect for me! Why is it that whenever I finally find the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, he turns out to be gay or already taken?"

"You mean this has happened before," Draco piped up from behind Harry sounding completely aghast.

"YES!!" Hermione's cry of agony was cut off as she fled the room in a stream of tears. Meanwhile, Kyoya was trying to catch hold of the object of his affection, which was apparently incredibly difficult given that the twins were all so alike that the Cupid's charm wasn't able to distinguish between them, causing Kyoya to run after each of them in turn like a dog after a bitch in heat.

Tamaki and Haruhi stood some distance away watching the chaotic proceedings with some interest.

"That's really disgusting," Tamaki laughed flippantly. "He's totally indiscriminate."

"You should see yourself at Host Club functions," came Haruhi's dry comment.

A loud _clang!_ returned their attention to the tableau before them. A huge door-less cage had dropped down out of nowhere to trap Kyoya behind thick bars of steel. The four replicas doubled over to catch their breath.

"Right," said Hikaru, at least, it could have been him. Or Kaoru, or Fred, or George, but that's beside the point. "We have to fix this. Kyoya's appeal is his distance so if this keeps up, there will be no point in him going home. He would ruin his reputation and be forced to kill himself."

"Yeah," agreed Fred, unless it was Hikaru or George or Kaoru. "We also can't have him chasing us all around the school. That's beyond awkward."

"Then how do you propose that we fix this?" inquired Draco snobbishly, perfectly ready to lock the Host Club members up in the Room of Requirement for the rest of eternity.

"I think the twins should spend the night in Gryffindor Tower with us," Harry suggested in a brilliant flash of insight. Or maybe not so brilliant because George's next comment was, "we already have a room since we are working as Flitwick's replacements." We are fairly sure this was George speaking because we think Fred already spoke and they alternate and there's no way Hikaru or Kaoru could know about the room unless they were some crazy hybrid of Goa'uld harcesis child and an Ori Jesus-baby, which is actually pretty likely when you think about it (20).

"That's fine. It's just really late, so I think we should all go wherever we are going to go because I want to go to sleep," Ron crabbed.

"You're right," Harry sighed, resigned to mediating a pointless conversation. "Let's just all go to sleep and deal with this in the morning. After all, all we have to do is find the genie and an antidote to whatever potion was on that arrow, which I'm sure Snape will know."

"Sounds good!" cried Kaoru (or George, or Fred, or Hikaru) delightedly as the four look-alikes bounced out the door of the Room of Requirement on their way to what was presumably a guest-staff room. When the door slammed shut behind them it was noticeably quieter, but Kyoya's panting breath was far more obvious.

"Tamaki, Huni, and Mori can spend the night in Gryffindor Tower with you two," Draco said hurriedly, making as if to leave.

"No dice, Malfoy," Ron said nastily, just itching to take his inexplicably foul mood out on someone. "No more than two to a bed and no one else in the Tower is going to share with them. Huni and Mori have to stay together—" this was emphasized by and emphatic nod from Huni, "—so you'll have to share room with Tamaki."

Draco desperately wanted to refuse, but judging by the looks on Ron and Harry's faces, namely the edge of insanity that was shining through the façade of humanity, convinced him otherwise. "Alright. Come if you're coming," he snarled at Tamaki. The Host Club king breezed after the sulking Slytherin in a cloud of happiness. "I just don't want to explain a Gryffindor to the other Slytherins."

"Just tell them you're lovers," Harry quipped. Draco flipped him the bird in a decidedly un-Draco-like gesture and left with Tamaki in tow.

"Haruhi can sleep in the girls' dorm, so let's go," Harry directed the remaining persons present. Together they filed out of the room, leaving Kyoya to suffer alone.

Later that night, after the chaos of new arrivals in Gryffindor had settled and they all had escaped to bed, Ron lay awake in the dark next to Harry. Huni and Mori lay curled on what had been his bed in a tangled heap. Ron's thoughts were miles away, his entire consciousness focused on how he was going to make himself look amazing in Hermione's eyes. Finally he reached a conclusion: the way to Hermione's heart was to break the enchantment on Kyoya. She would be so grateful that she couldn't help but admire him and admiration would grow into love.

_That's __it_, was Ron's last thought before he fell asleep. _I'll find both the genie and the way to break the spell. The Host Club will leave and Hermione will be mine._

When the entire castle had fallen asleep being the over-generalized statement that it is, left one or rather four exceptions: the double twins of quadruplicy (21). They were quite awake and had not a thought of sleeping anytime soon for they were still plotting their grand scheme that would leave the entire population of the school become wordless or suffer slight anemia through the nasal passages. This plan most likely contained the most recent and up-to-date tactics of how to make the average teen blush and even the less-than and more-than average teens. Nothing was off limits in their mind, _nothing._

The over-assuming statement, same as the over-generalized statement, also excluded the visitor that contained _way_ too much enthusiasm; namely the prince of light, the self-proclaimed King of Hosting, none other than Tamaki! Yay (imagine an explosion of confetti just fell on you and the noise _MOE!!!_(22) bombarding you from every direction)! This individual had not fallen asleep either. He had instead thoroughly embarrassed Draco in front of his fellow Slytherins by criticizing the chosen interior designing and put it upon himself to rearrange the room so that the coming love brought on by Valentine's would be able to flourish in an elegant and bright room. With the powers invested in him and possessed by all shoujo characters, he was able to change all the cushion covers in the sitting room to be white, yellow, or a love-pink color. Everyone laughed at Draco for not being able to control his mysterious visitor, all but one.

"Who's your taller, more gorgeous, and more magnificently blonder friend Draco?" Pansy's voice was laced with infatuation as she floated over to the god-sent boy and drooled uncontrollably at his presence.

Draco was slightly annoyed at such an insult only minutely happy that such infatuation would draw her attention away from him. "It doesn't matter he'll be leaving shortly." He promptly grabbed the well manicured hand of the Host Club member and dragged him into his single bed suite; he _had_ earned it, being the ice-prince after all. Draco made his way to his lush bed jumping in without changing as the unwanted company made him uncomfortable to even lose the layers of dead skin, fearing it would somehow make him susceptible to the gorgeous boy of his like, but better has been the repeated observation. Tamaki shadowed to him to the bed but was kicked away when he tried to follow suit and jump into bed.

"Nooooooooo. You can sleep on the floor." Draco spoke with finality as he nonchalantly conjured a sleeping mat, blanket, and pillow for his guest. Tamaki gave him a pout that rivaled those of Huni's most powerful and smartly dealt pouts. Unfortunately, this only managed to scare Draco even more and Tamaki was once more denied the comfort of a real bed. As Draco succumbed to the calls of sleep Tamaki stayed awake pouting in despair as someone who had so much potential to be a mini-Tamaki was only able to be cold. And that's when he came up with a brilliant plan that only he could ever imagine, meaning it was rather much of a self-build-ego sort of plan that would play up is theatrics and the dramatic and over-caring mother that he was often prone to be whenever around Haruhi; he was going to turn Draco into his very own mini-me!!! With that he began to plan the tedious steps to achieve his goal.

Plotting and conniving plans aside, the castle was blanketed with momentary silence before the sun rose to signify a new fresh and unmarked day, the fateful day humankind has arbitrarily name Valentine's Day. Harry and Ron had a not so fresh morning as they were both stiff with lack of movement, neither having been comfortable with sharing a bed with their closest male friend as well as they had been awakened by the shrill exclamations of the small on diabetes inducingly cute Huni who was asking Mori where his breakfast was and why he hadn't been awoken by the smell of cake. Ron grumpily got up and stretched briefly before he donned his school clothing once more. Harry did the same nearly falling over because he had forgotten to put on his glasses.

Ron re-remembering is flawless plan to win Hermione's heart, he was quickly fueled back to life, "Harry, we need to go see Snape before we get breakfast." He proclaimed this with a little too much enthusiasm that one who is not a Slytherin associates with meeting Snape when they didn't absolutely had to see him in class. This earned him a strange look from Harry who was slightly distracted by his dirty glasses and was cleaning them at the moment so he couldn't see Ron's face when he noticed his blunder. "That is, if we really want to get these strange people out of Hogwarts." He added gruffly.

"Right then." Harry agreed. "Huni, Mori, I'll show you were the Great Hall is so you two can have breakfast while we try to find a cure for your friend."

Huni lit up, "Wait, I wanna go with you. Come on Mori let's go meet Snape-sama!" He was thrilled and jumped on Mori's shoulders swaying his legs to get Mori moving. Harry merely shrugged and went with it.

The four of them made their way down to the cold, dank, dark, and dingy dungeons to meet Snape when out of nowhere Draco stormed out fuming and mumbling to himself, "Just because he resembles the perfect Aryan (23) race everyone assumes he's better looking than me. I can't believe that I am the Ice Prince how am I even remotely relatable to that air-headed piece of—"

"You know Malfoy, Tamaki does not in fact resemble such. Duh, don't you pay attention, he can't be because he has _purple _eyes and he's not even of Germanic descent, he's French-Japanese." Informed the random Gryffindor who we the authors have twice, now three times, ignored the original statement that she would never appear after her first appearance. Her randomly specific and unnecessary knowledge earned her a rather scandalized face from Draco before she strolled of into oblivion where she might just stay.

After the strange encountered Draco tagged along with the four of them for safety. They walked for a moment more when Harry noticed something, or rather someone, was missing. "Where's Tamaki?" Draco feigned a mock look of innocence as his eyes darted everywhere but Harry's face in search of a believable lie, then realizing he didn't care he told the truth.

"I ditched him in the passageways. He creeps the living daylights out of me, he's so—" Draco shiddered (24) to be interrupted by Harry's sarcasm laced mouth.

"—improperly relatable to an Aryan." Harry smiled in satisfaction as Draco spared him a glare before he went on. "Don't worry, I'll find him later. Off to see Snape?"

Harry just rolled his eyes and they continued in their quest for an antidote if only to make it in time, wait there isn't a time limit, anyhow they continued. Miraculously, they were yet again stalled in their already eternity long mission when Tamaki seemed to descend from the heavens. In fact Tamaki had stepped through an illusion of a step on the stairs and had proceeded to fall a story down to where they were, coincidences aye?

"Well, that saves a lot of trouble." Ron impatiently pointed out the obvious. "Now let's hurry up and get to Snape's office." Ignoring the rest he blindly charged forward amount five feet before he slammed into the door of said office. "What the bloody hell! When did we get here?"

"Do watch your language boy before I deducted the amount of points equivalent to your IQ number subtracted from the highest possible IQ number, and as yours is an incredibly large negative number, much like that of dirt, there would be no way Gryffindor would ever be able to win the House Cup for the next millennia." The drawling yet sharply threatening voice of their potions master rang out from behind them.

"I'm scared!" Huni began to cry at the horrific sight of the greasy professor who had just billowed onto the scene.

Tamaki circled the teacher looking him over from head to toe. "Well, nothing a good twenty or thirty gallons of shampoo, conditioner and body-wash couldn't fix."

Snape became outraged, well at least on the inside because even though he has a very pale complexion he doesn't reveal his emotions outwardly other than the twitching his lower lip. "_Mr. _Malfoy, I would expect much better from my own students but if you are so willing to be insulting, crass and tactless toward you very own Head of House than I shall see fit that—"

"Professor, no wait, Professor Snape. That's not me!!!" Draco yelled very fast so that Snape wouldn't have the chance to mar his visual memory with whatever punishment he was about to invent.

Snape froze and stared between the alleged-Malfoy and his lavender-eyed counterpart in well-concealed bewilderment before his brows furrowed in concentration and annoyance. "You are correct, Mr. Malfoy, as per usual. Five points to Slytherin."

Malfoy preened under Snape's praise like on overly-puffed rooster. The Potions master however, had turned his attention back onto Tamaki and was eyeing him with intense dislike and consternation. "After teaching at Hogwarts for the length of time I have, I was under the impression that I knew by sight at least every student fifth year or above. Oddly enough, I do not recognize you, which means that you cannot possibly be a student here at Hogwarts, which means that Potter and Weasley are in a great deal of trouble indeed."

"Professor," Harry stated quickly, thinking on his feet in an incredible display of mental acrobatics. "These three just transferred in from another school, so you wouldn't have seen them before."

"Indeed?" Snape intoned, making it clear by his inflection that he doubted Harry's explanation of Tamaki, Mori, and Huni's presence to the extreme. "Which school did they transfer in from?"

Harry gaped at him wordlessly and was surprisingly rescued from his dilemma by Ron. "They're from Ouran School in America."

It was obvious that Snape had never heard of Ouran, but the teacher was never one to admit that he did not know some piece of information the students he saw as his inferiors did so he grudgingly accepted the explanation as a means of hiding his own ignorance. Unfortunately, the mention of something he didn't know put him in an incredibly foul mood, which he set about taking out on the Gryffindor stooges so conveniently presented to him.

"Your explanation, while truly fascinating," Snape drawled, his pale lips drawing back to reveal disturbingly pointed teeth, "does nothing to explain what you six, excepting Malfoy, are doing in the dungeons this early in the morning."

"Yes, well, about that…" Harry began noncommittally. Malfoy rolled his eyes and interrupted what was sure to be a long-winded and entirely unnecessary explanation to say a few words.

"We came to find you professor," Draco inserted smoothly. "We knew that you would be the person who could help us with the problem at hand."

"And what problem would that be Mr. Malfoy?" Snape's tone took on the warmth of glacial ice.

"We need an antidote to a really, _really_ strong love potion," Ron blurted in a rush.

"Why, pray tell, would you need an antidote to such a potion, Weasley? Surely nobody would expend the effort and money necessary to create a potion of such strength that you would need my assistance in creating an antidote just to ensnare a ragged, ill-kempt child like yourself." Snape snarked nastily. "Unless you and that Granger girl have decided to take each other up and break a few thousand school rules in the process. Still, it's not as though I expected better from either of you."

"It's not for me!" Ron half-shouted defensively. "_I_ don't need the antidote."

"Then why are you wasting my valuable time, Mr. Weasley?" by now Snape's voice sounded as though it belonged to a zombie-beast fresh from the grave rather than a sane, rational, well-adjusted human being.

"We need the potion for a friend," Harry half-lied.

"You are deliberately trying to avoid the question. I see no need to assist students in what I am now convinced is an illicit activity."

"Please, professor," Malfoy soothed swiftly. "It really is important, much as I hate to agree with Weaselby."

Snape appeared to consider the words of his favorite student before he heaved an uncharacteristic sigh and spoke, "I will need to know for whom this potion is needed, among other things, but you have yet to convince me that this is worth my time."

Up to this point, Huni, Mori, and Tamaki had simply been standing aside and allowing the intense ill-feelings to swirl around them in eddies of pure hatred, but Tamaki had grown tired of the pointless and evasive dialogue between everyone's favorite characters so he stepped in with his usually dramatic and highly-unexpected interventional methods. What happened next was nothing that had ever been seen in the history of Hogwarts (seriously, check in _Hogwarts: __A__ History_. You won't find it) and would never be seen again.

Tamaki stepped forward into better light to show his perfect blonde hair and sculpted features off to the best advantage and fluttered his long lashes at the dour Potions professor. "Professor, the potion is for me." Snape fixed the boy with his gimlet gaze and instantly decided that the handsome youth was gayer than a May-pole. The king of the Host Club heaved a dramatic sigh and continued unhurriedly, "you see, I've fallen in love, but he doesn't seem to realize that I even exist. I think he's already seeing someone else. I just can't stand it anymore!"

"This is not my issue and I have no wish to concoct an antidote just to cure some ridiculous infatuation," the Potions master snapped, his temper fraying dangerously.

"Oh, but it is your issue," Tamaki purred, his voice dropping an octave and becoming something that was really only fit for a bedroom. "The thing is, I fell in love with _you._"

Snape flinched away from the boy as though he had the plague. Tamaki moaned deep in his throat and launched himself at the professor's knees, mentally bidding goodbye to cleanliness and grease-free skin before he curled his lithe body around the taller, older man's lower half.

"Please, professor," the golden-blonde begged in a needy voice. "Don't leave me alone."

"You said you needed an antidote to a love potion?" Snape confirmed over Tamaki's head, having apparently decided to ignore the physical contact in favor of a less-emotional pursuit. Huni was giggling madly on Mori's shoulders and Ron, Harry, and Draco's jaws were all dangling open like village idiots'. Draco managed to pull himself together just long enough to nod mutely. "Fine. I will help you make the antidote."

"Will there be anything that you need that we can get for you?" Harry asked faintly.

"Yes, Potter, there is." Snape's face twisted into a sadistic smile and a jolt of trepidation shot through the three boys who actually knew what Snape was capable of. "To make the antidote, I will require the blood of a virgin. You are all still virgins, I presume?"

The three boys nodded again before Ron scraped up the courage to ask in a trembling voice, "How much…how much blood do you need?"

The smile became vicious. "However much blood is necessary for you to make the potion properly."

"What do you mean 'you to make the potion properly'?" Harry asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

"The antidote can only be made by someone who is aware of the circumstances under which the potion was administered and as I have no desire to hear of your sordid affairs, you will have to make the potion yourselves," the Potions teacher smirked.

"Oh, god, we might as well give up now," Draco exclaimed. "Potter and Weasely are so inept that they would be unable to properly brew a potion that only required water to be boiled (25). Making an antidote as undoubtedly complicated as the one in question would be impossible. I hope you don't mind bleeding all over the Potions room, Weaselby, because we're going to need a lot of blood to make up for all of the mistakes you two are going to make."

"Can't you make a potion that complicated?" Huni asked the blonde Slytherin innocently.

"Of course," Draco responded exuberantly. "It's no problem for someone of my intellect."

"Then there's no issue," Huni smiled sweetly. "You can help Ron make it." Draco mouthed like a fish for a while, then snapped his jaw shut once he realized that he was caught in the web of his own pride.

"Come along, Weaselby," he snapped as he drug Ron toward the classroom. "I'll make the potion, you just find a clean beaker and bleed in it." Snape gave Harry one last look of loathing, dislodged Tamaki from his position, and swept after the bickering duo with his cloak billowing around him like wings. Harry, Huni, Mori, and Tamaki watched them go until the three vanished into the dark dungeon room that served as a Potions classroom then took off up the corridor toward light and life. When they burst into the main hall moments later, Hermione stood waiting for them with Haruhi in tow.

"Good news, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed to forestall the complaints that he was sure were going to start pouring from the bushy-haired girls lips. "Snape, Malfoy, and Ron are getting the antidote to the Cupid's potion worked out as we speak, so Kyoya will be back to normal in no time."

"I'm not sure that restoring Kyoya to his normal attitude is what is best for the world," Tamaki said doubtfully, "but have it your way."

"Well, Mori thinks that the best course of action would be to look for the genie." Haruhi pointed out though Mori had clearly not spoken, let alone even moved a muscle in his face to indicate any sort of thought. Harry and Hermione gazed curiously at the only female host members' apparent knack for reading minds.

"Yeah, alright." Harry agreed much like a hero would in the beginning of a RPG. "So where would a genie hide."

They searched far and wide for the place it hide (26) but nowhere could they find the venue it dined. From the Quidditch field to the low grounds of Habersnatchey they sought, brought upon were the dangers inflicted by the flesh eating slugs that inhabited the Cabbage Patch Kids of doom (located just east of the your nearest Wal-y World). The force compelled them forward when there was nothing around them. Through the tunnels of Carpal their bone marrow was challenged weakening their wrists which sabotaged their Guitar Hero battles with the Gods of Rock in the Rockalation Mountains not too far away. They successfully by-passed Candyland but not quite successfully because someone chloroformed the random Gryffindor (you remember the one, she just didn't want to stay in oblivion, it got lonely as she only had the company of MacGyisver who is the lesser known cousin of the infamous MacGyver, which is why when he helped her escape oblivion she lost her left ear) unexpectedly which slowed them considerably. When passing through the fields of dozing roses Hermione and Harry were separated from Haruhi, Huni, and Mori, and before this tangent gets anymore off tract, the Golden Trio minus one collected themselves and found themselves in the Trophy Room.

"Ah Ha! Of course why didn't I think of it sooner?" Hermione exclaimed in excitement. "This is the most likely spot where the genie would go, after all, it is the room with the most concentrated amount of shiny objects in the castle and everyone knows that genies can't resist shiny things much like a raccoon or a jackdaw." Harry and Hermione searched thoroughly top to bottom tirelessly, inspecting every crevice. At the end of a half-hour they had still not found anything when out of nowhere they heard a familiar voice.

"Brave sir and good-lady you look as they you have just failed to slay a dragon. What is the matter perhaps Sir Cadogen could be of service?" The Knight in not-so-shiny armor atop a sluggish white horse spoke with confidence.

"Unless you know where we can find a genie—" Harry began to brood when the Knight interjected his hard to come by useful knowledge. "Why just before you came to occupy this room I did see a genie pop out of one of the trophies. He went into the pipes in search of someone who was in need of three wishes."

"Well, if we're looking for someone desperate all we have to do is find Ginny!" Harry burst out in what he thought was a bought of intelligence, how so wrong he was.

"Not only is that insulting, though correct, it is completely and utterly wrong." Hermione gruffly pointed out. "It is quite obvious that he has gone to find a truly shallow soul and as he went through the pipes the most likely location to find him at would be the girls' bathroom on the second floor, the domain of Moaning Mrytle." Her conclusion reached through deductive reasoning was followed by an ominous sound of _duhn__duhn__Duhn_ That went unheard by the characters themselves.

As their search for the genie continued uneventfully and fruitlessly for some time we the authors shall see what is happening back at the Host Club's make-shift main quarters. Though Kyoya had been transported to an off-shoot room so as not to be heard the double twins had put their plans into motion. They had created a master Valentine's Day ball in the neo-Host Club room. Hikaru, Fred, Kaoru, and George had gathered the missing Host Club members and had commenced in what they do best: Hosting. The power of the twins was increased ten-fold as there were now four of them each with a slightly distinct quality to fixate upon. Such a gathering proved dangerous as the number of love-potions that had been sold on the Hogwarts black market had been a record high this year and the amount of smuggled firewhiskey was as well.

Tamaki was off his game as he was still putting the finally touches on his plan to make Draco his mini-me and bring him home as a pet. Kyoya, left to his own devices, had become deranged with love and need to find his true love by the name of Kaoru, or George, unless it was Fred, or even perhaps Hikaru. He became desperate, very desperate indeed.

We take another ADHD transition back to Hermione and Harry who soon encountered Draco and an extremely pale and staggering Ron. Draco, who was smiling on the inside about Ron's weakened state, informed Harry and Hermione as to their progress. "I successfully created the antidote in one try, though I did forget to mention this to Ron so he kept giving more blood—anywho, we just need to wait exactly fifty-seven minutes and thirty-three seconds until we can administer it to Kyoya."

"Okay, well in the meantime, we need to find the genie, which we think—well, Hermione thought of it first, is with Moaning Mrytle." After the short conference the Golden Trio plus one headed off toward the expected location of the elusive genie.

In the blink of a metaphorical eye the Cheap 12-karat Gold Quartet sauntered to a halt just outside of the out-of-order girl's bathroom. Just like in an overly-cliché horror flick they had the foreboding sense that if they did in fact open the underused door a ferret would pop out and ravage their faces (27). Just as they reached for the handle Moaning Mrytle burst through the door followed by streams of protoplasmic bleeding. Draco shrieked like a little girl and jumped three and a quarter feet into the air before landing in Harry's conveniently outstretched arms. Ron and Hermione would have looked at him strangely, but Hermione was too busy trying to support an anemic Ron who was attempting to pass out in a pool on the floor (28). Moaning Mrytle cackled wildly in her freakishly bi-polar PMS state before subsiding into a mass of hysterical crying. "That stupid genie wouldn't grant my wishes, something about me not having a corporal existence." She floated away in angst which left Draco to climb down out of Harry's arms and straighten his robes as if nothing had happened and quickly scolded the rest of the party, "Stop lounging around or my father will slap you all like red-headed stepchild."

"I'm sure he would," Ron said groggily as he was unsure of what he was professing, "Except he and Snape seemed rather _involved_ . . . did you know your dad is a screamer? I noticed this as I was retrieving the second razor blade when I found myself wondering if it is a heritable trait. So how 'bout it, Malfoy? Or should I ask Harry?"

Hermione glanced down at the boy in her arms with wondering eyes. She'd never admit it but she too was curious about that particular characteristic of the attractive males of the Malfoy family, although she was rather disappointed that Lucius Malfoy was gay as she had been coveting him as her future beau (boyfriend/lover), but she was not really surprised given the features of his cane . . . notably the snake _head_ or the fact that he had perfectly manicured nails or the fact that the cane attempted to hide the noticeable limp on most mornings, let alone the fact that his hair was pristine in nature and always aglow with his own personal veela light.

Right after that interesting exploration of sexual preferences, Draco blatantly ignored Ron's inquiry and proceeded to the bathroom sink that bore a tap etched with a snake. Harry noticed the thick purple glittery trail of genie slim that, like a slug's, streamed from the thick tail-like appendage that served as the genie's legs. It could not have been more obvious that a genie had been there unless Aladdin and his whole parade circled it wearing pink spandex tights.

"Dude, I think he's in the Chamber of Secrets." Harry said with a surfer-dude tonal inflection.

"What makes you think that?" Draco questioned in all serious earning him a look from all three cohorts saying 'Oh. My. God. You have the IQ of a Gila monster that's been dead in the desert sun for approximately six months during mid-summer with the appropriate selection of denitrifying bacteria.'

"Right," said Harry. "We know that the genie must be in the Chamber of Secrets and we know there are a limited number of objects in the Chamber in which the genie could house himself."

Having identified the position of the genie, Harry moved to stand in front of the sink so that he could use his beloved Parseltongue to open the Chamber and allow himself and his group entrance to the basilisk's lair below. He wetted his lips with his tongue in preparation for his vocal acrobatics, then drew in a deep breath and began.

"HSSSSSHAAHD!" Harry hissed self-importantly, sounding a lot like a buck-toothed toddler with an ill-fitting retainer trying to say the word 'sad.' The sinks remained adamantly immobile and Harry was forced to try again. "_HSSSSHHAAAAAHD!_" This time he drew the syllables out for maximum effect, which was actually none because the Chamber stayed closed. At this point, Harry became a little desperate because nothing is more embarrassing than looking like an idiot in front of your friends and arch-rival at the same time. "HHSSSSASSSD? HSSSHHHAARRGG? HSSSSAAARRY? HSSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUUUTUSSSSSH?" Draco began to laugh and Harry shot him a withering look that would probably have made at flobberworm seriously consider rolling over dead before it resumed its daily activities, namely consuming ridiculous amounts of semi-rotted lettuce.

"What?" Harry demanded as Draco's laughter increased exponentially with the hero-boy's latest try.

"You just told the Chamber to f itself," Malfoy chortled.

"How do you know that?" Harry bitched.

"Well, as I am the son of a well-cultured, pure-blooded wizard of the Dark persuasion, I have remarkable access to this type of learning," Malfoy smirked vocally.

"Yeah," Hermione stage-whispered. "That means that he had to learn it when his precious daddy came crawling home from his latest escapade with Voldemort and it was the only language that the man's traumatized brain could recognize." She continued a little more loudly, "Hey, Malfoy, how do you say 'harder' in Parseltongue?"

Draco glared at her evilly before shoving Harry out from in front of the sink and puffing up his chest in preparation for completely dominating Harry's weak efforts to open the Chamber. "HHSSSAAAHGH," the blonde boy breathed. Instantly the sinks began to move and soon the mouth of the Chamber gaped open.

"Alright, let's go find that genie," Harry said heartily.

"Are you stupid?" Draco queried. "No, don't answer that. Just…_observe_." He rolled up his sleeves and pulled his wand out of a special sheathe on his thigh (30). "_Accio_ genie!"

Hermione glanced at him skeptically. "You are aware that there is no way that will work because you have to have stronger magical powers than the genie to summon it like that and everyone knows that—" A sixty-foot long snake skin flew out of the Chamber and came crashing down on her head, trailing a firecracker-like stream of purple stars and sparkles all the way. Hermione shut up in a hurry.

"Anything else to say, Granger?" Malfoy quipped. "Being a pure-blood wizard of superior lineage grants me some greater powers than those of the average wizard."

"Mmhmm," Ron agreed, revealing his inner black woman soul. "Like having perfect hair."

"Whatever," Harry growled in full denial mode, refusing to admit that he had been outdone by a blonde pretty-boy. "Let's get back to the Room of Requirement."

"Hang on," Hermione instructed, desperately trying to get back her status as resident know-it-all and overachieving spell-caster. "You have to seal the genie into the vessel in which it currently resides or it will just leave and find a new place to hide." So saying, she pulled out her own wand, which was substantially longer than Draco's (31), and sketched a pentagram over the shed basilisk's head. It glowed bright green, making the skin look something like one of Barney's dead relatives what with its putrescent purple and green spotted coloration (32). "There now, it's perfect."

Draco admired her handiwork with surprising authenticity. "Not bad, Granger." The bushy-headed girl puffed up at the praise until the sadistic Malfoy added in a sly undertone, "for a dirty hemoglobin (33)." She glared and refused to speak to him all the way back to the Room of Requirement a.k.a. the Neo-Host Club Control Center and Base of Operations. They walked into the gate room just as an annoying voice chirped, "sixth chevron, locked," and the gate…wait…wrong story arc…

Anyway, when they walked into the room it was exactly 6.37 minutes until the dose of antidote was ready for consumption. Kyoya lay sprawled in the bottom of his cage as Huni poked pieces of carrot through the bars for him to eat along with chunks of shredded newspaper in case he had an "accident."

"We found the genie!" Hermione yelled. The quadruplets' heads popped up in a row like a Whack-a-Mole game.

"That's great," Kaoru said, although it may have been Fred, or Hikaru, or George. "Now we just need to keep Kyoya from humping our legs long enough to get the medicine down his gullet and then the appropriate members of our little group can go back home."

Kyoya perked up as his lust-hazed brain registered the fact that they were going to have to remove him from the cage to give him the antidote and he began scheming a nefarious plot deep in his brain, though in all reality, it wasn't too deep because the only thing he could really think about was skin-deep, if you know what I mean.

Meanwhile, three of the quadruplets were fitting the fourth quadruplet in a Kyoya-proof rubber suit that zipped apart for ease of washing. "You know the drill," the three dressers addressed the dressee. "Get the potion down his throat and get away until it takes effect."

"No sweat!" Fred giggled while playing with the zipper, unless it was one of the other three, but this was unlikely because Hikaru and Kaoru were more into buttons since they ripped off rather spectacularly in the heat of the moment and the twin that was probably George was too busy getting away from Tamaki, who had claimed the enormous genie-skin as a sort of fashionable accessory that made him look like some gay faerie from the secret depths of the closets of the Forbidden Forest.

"Five seconds, guys!" Hermione shouted, staring at her magical watch. "Four! Three! Two! One! Alright, it's activated! Go, go, go!" In the resulting hubbub, it was hard to distinguish the sequence of events, but we will do our best to record the events as faithfully as possible. First, Hermione flung the gate of Kyoya's cage open wide while the people in the Room scattered. Second, Kyoya leapt for the nearest twin, which happened to not be the one in the rubber suit, catching him around the throat and bringing him down in a heap (34). Third, the remaining three quadruplets swarmed like bees to save their fallen comrade, egged on by Tamaki who directed the whole spectacle with one trailing end of his absurd glowing purple-green basilisk boa. Fourth, Mori swept a sobbing Huni up in his arms to keep him from being trampled underfoot. Fifth, Kyoya succeeded in stripping the shirt from the pinned twin and the resulting nosebleed from Ron, who was apparently coming out of the closet about his own sexuality, made him pass out from excessive cumulative blood loss (35). Sixth, the antidote somehow ended up in Kyoya's gut and the bespectacled teen curled up in the fetal position while swearing about the taste of filthy blood. Seventh, Tamaki finally succeeded in embarrassing the trapped genie into granting him a wish, which he promptly spent on making Draco his pet mini-me. Eighth, the author finally got pissed at this list format and switched back to normal paragraphs and dialogue.

"Is he okay?" Hermione questioned softly as she nudged Kyoya's shoulder.

"He's fine," Tamaki proclaimed, scooping a struggling Draco up into his arms. "Now, Host Club, let's get the hell out of this commoner place and get back to our school and our food and our clothes, except we're taking this shiny skin thingie because I like it. Genie?"

The snake's head moved freakishly and the stentorian tones of the genie resounded in the carcass's empty skull, "What the hell do you want, you filthy ingrate? Can't a person wax their legs in peace?" The considerably less hairy genie emerged from the skin with a pot of wax in one hand and a fluffy blue wand in the other (36).

"I wish that we, the Host Clubbers, will be returned to our Host Club in the same condition and time as when we left. Do you understand?" Tamaki ordered like the little dictator-king he was. The genie flipped him off in response while waving his fluffy wand, which released a bunch of pink sparkles. There was an odd sensation of vertigo, and then the castle melted away and the seven found themselves standing where they had left.

"Well, I'm glad we all got back safely," Kyoya said after a while, straightening his glasses in a familiar manner as he desperately tried to repress his recent memories. Haruhi just nodded, her eyes fixed on the pair of twins. One of the two was staring around at the spacious interior of the room and running their hands over the fabrics of the couches. Tamaki noticed this strange behavior, too.

"Oy, twin, are you feeling alright?" the King asked out of concern for his subject, Draco somehow still clutched in one iron-like arm. The twin addressed gave him a dazed look and indicated that yes, he was alright before collapsing in exhaustion in his mirror-image's arms.

"I think that it would be best if we all just go home and rest," Kyoya suggested as his trembling hands reached for the bottle of Prozac he kept stowed in an ornamental teapot.

"I agree! I have cake at home!" Huni exclaimed delightedly, his sugary-sweet tones causing massive myocardial infarctions at random places spread out in a ten-mile radius. The little boy sprinted from the room and Kyoya and Tamaki (still carrying Draco, who was now shouting loudly and obnoxiously that he was in fact quite capable of walking by himself) drifted after him.

Haruhi took advantage of their absence to casually remind the odd-acting twin that magic wouldn't work here, an obscure comment that no one but the twins themselves would have noticed. The twins seized hold of her and the three of them left the room in a huddle of semi-fraternal feeling.

Mori, who was now alone, looked long and hard at Tamaki's abandoned poncho-skin Barney death-mask before turning to face the camera with a very serious expression. He drew a deep breath and the entire world stopped spinning for the momentous occasion that was just about to occur.

He spoke. And it was good (37).

Meanwhile, in Potter-land, the random Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were in the trophy room when an ill-tossed slipper knocked a golden cup from its shelf. It fell, pouring purple mist…

_And it began again in a different time and place with different characters_.

The End (El Fin)

And that concludes our epic oneshot fic of godly crossover-ness.

Please, as always, we would enjoy reviews XD

* * *

(1) After Stalin's speeches, the audience would clap for prolonged periods of time because they were scared shitless of being the first person to stop clapping, which could possibly incriminate them as an anti-Stalinist and make them subject to Secret Police attacks (it's way true [maybe exaggerated, well not really just ask your history teach)

(2) Fuck yeah! 14 word alliteration with the letter 't'.

(3) Ibrium is getting quite tired right about now; ish midnight.

(4) AccomodatorOmega is also getting quite tired at this point. It is now 1:20a.m. and it is suddenly her turn to think after the completion of the first 1500 words (exactly) of this beautiful fanfic HPOHHCXover. Everything _is_ funnier this earlier in the morning. Especially the retainer lisp.

(5) We like 't's. We _really_ like 't's. We also like alliteration with 't's, especially AccomodatorOmega. Mmmmmm, _alliterative_.

(6) This is a combined run-on of the whole idea of fishing-line and Crisco to get tight clothing on. An exact translation of this is as follows: fish Crisco bucket too-small clothing.

(7) The twins' wands are identical: 14 5/3 inches Brazilian cherry with a unicorn tail-hair core. They double as fishing poles on off days.

(8) Just in case you haven't noticed . . . Ibrium and I _love_ identity confusion it's just so deliciously fun . . . I sound weird and it's not even late, no really, it's only 6pm . . .

(9) Facticity: in all factness, with all the bearings and attributes or characteristics of being or pertaining to fact. It is _totally_ a real word.

(10) Okay, so I lied she showed up again in this story, but mark my words it will be her last laugh in evil-genius mockery

(11) If you don't know what's about to happen you're—well, there probably isn't a need to insult the readers. I dare say we have so few . . .

(12) This footnote has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I (Ibrium) just felt so unfulfilled when I realized that my section had no footnotes, so I had to go back and add one. I have to lead a good life, you know, and fulfillment is a big part of good (13).

(13) I (AccomodatorOmega) _cannot believe _you just referenced a TOK seminar, my soul cries for yours TT3TT.

(14) When someone asks you to eat fried rice it is code for "want to make-out?" in Taiwan. I learned that from "Devil Beside You" I love that show XD.

(15) I love footnotes and use them often . . . anyhow I do have a point . . . oh yeah, there are only so many ways to say "broom closet" and I am growing rather tired of said room . . . thing.

(16) Usa-chan is the name of Huni's bunny.

(17) Math joke with Ibrium that would take too long to properly explain, so here's the shortish version. You have an equation, say , y x squared. The derivative is 2xdx and the jerk (derivative of a derivative, in other words the second derivative) would be 2. So if he was a 'jerk,' he would be a copy of a copy . . . yeah we can even find humor in Calculus, not just history. Pm if you want a better explanation.

(18) Not that this is particularly important but "Sakura Kiss" is the opening theme to Ouran Host Club.

(19) 6,000 words in and finally the beginnings of some kind of intricate plot is forming, or at least has the abilities to form . . .

(20) Let's make the explanation short and sweet: they know _everything_…

(21) Having or pertaining to being part of a quadruplet.

(22) Am not good at the explanation of this word . . .

(23) Hitler believed that the Aryan race was the master race and entailed being of Germanic descent with the features of blonde hair and blue eyes, and was physically fit. As a side note I shall note that this is ironic because he didn't look anything like that with black hair, dark eyes, not to mention he was related to Jews whom he hated for not being Aryan. Yay history!!!

(24) Shudder shiver shidder

(25) AccomodatorOmega wouldn't be able to do this, either.

(26) This is intentional wrong grammar on the part of AccomodatorOmega.

(27) Reference to Texas Chainsaw Massacre, my mom screamed when the ferret popped out, like a daisy, from the small shack-like structure (29).

(28) Much like Ibrium is trying to do, although she has rather more success but into a chair not onto the floor.

(29) Ophelia (a.k.a. our English teacher) tells us, in preparation for our oral exams, that if we can't remember the name of a term to just describe it.

(30) The wand was 8 ½ inches of ebony with a dragon heartstring core. The sheathe was leather. Black leather. With a couple of studs and a cool little chain thingie.

(31) 13 5/8 inches willow with a unicorn tail hair. Good for charms and making the boys look small.

(32) AccomodatorOmega is in a state of stunned disbelief that I included such an obscene character reference. I informed her that at 2:30 am I could do whatever the hell I want if it would only make the story end faster.

(33) The politically-correct way to call someone a Mudblood without being slapped with a defamation lawsuit and having a lawyer crawl up your ass with a microscope.

(34) Think like a puma attacking its prey. You know, grab the deer and chomp through its neck in showers of blood?

(35) Maybe that's why he was so anemic, not from slitting his wrists for Draco but by spying on Draco's dad.

(36) AccomodatorOmega asked me how the wand could be blue and fluffy and I responded that it was 3:00 am and I could still do whatever the hell I wanted because it was late and I was tired and I was going to kill her if she kept on asking me stupid, ridiculous questions in her dumb retainer lisp.

(37) But we're not going to actually tell you what he said. Just kidding. He said: "Why is it that I am always cleaning up after Tamaki? He's just as irritating as Bigger and Medea."


End file.
